May Book List

    May. I feel like it flew by, yet also moved slow in a no good kind of way. I've also noticed I've been struggling much more to find time to read. It's getting harder to sit down for long chunks at a time and devour pages. It feels like the pace of life is just picking up way too much. This past month was insane with end of school activities, parities, a family wedding, all good things, but I remembered why I was struggling so much before the pandemic hit. I had a hard time even focusing on what I was reading this month. I'd get to read bits and pieces of a book here and there and usually my mind was still running so fast I couldn't concentrate on what I was reading. Not once did I get to sit and read more than fifty pages at a time unless I was up super late and mildly delirious, rereading a lot of what I'd read or just having no clue what I'd read, and for a reader that is heartbreaking. I'm back to trying to find time to sneak away, looking at my schedule and seeing what I can cut out and what I need to push through. Time during the pandemic was easy in the sense that our boundaries were set for us, now we had to do our own work to set boundaries and go back to disappointing people when we say no and do what we need to do. I just want to sit by a pool and read for a few hours, preferably three, without interruption, ah the dream. I see my kids thriving, being with friends and participating in sports, having so much fun. And I see my reading time disappearing. I don't know how to balance all that. But I have high hopes that summertime will cut out the frantic feeling that comes with going from activity to activity and making it hard to come down at night, harder to find that nice relaxed state. Maybe I need to pick up yoga again. How are y'all doing with this life pace? *Also, downside to library books, they really mess up the photo of the spines showcasing the title and author... didn't notice that until too late, ha.*

    Phew, the first book of the month, Valerie: or, The Faculty of Dreams: A Novel by Sara Stridsberg was a doozy. I was being pulled along to the youth section and spotted the gorgeous cover of this book, stuck my hand out and grabbed it. The cover art was all I needed. Later I discovered the book was about Valerie Solanas, feminist, brilliant tortured mind who wrote SCUM Manifesto, woman who tried to kill Andy Warhol. I'd read on Goodreads that this was a dark and highly rated book so I was in. I do love a good moody, sad story and the beginning of this story didn't disappoint. Stridsberg starts by saying is all purely fictional, even the facts she learned don't always hold up to the story in her imagination. The first fourth was darkly captivating, Stridsberg writes in such a poetic way. How her words and metaphors play out, it's gorgeous. The use of the color white and metaphors of the ocean genius.  A few phrases she uses again and again in the book really sinking in, loved that. However, after a while, the darkness didn't even begin to recede. It just kept going, often getting worse. I felt like I was forcing myself to finish because I was so hopeful there was some bright light, but to no avail. The last fourth picked back up, Warhol being shot and all. I was googling images and video clips of I, A Man, a movie Warhol produced with Valerie in it. Researching that art world of the 60s was probably the highlight of this book. Valerie's story is laced with abuse of all kinds and so much trauma. She died alone, homeless (not a spoiler, it's how the book starts) in the Bristol Hotel in San Francisco, a hotel for homeless. The last few chapters of this book absolutely gutted me. I mean, in depth look at death from someone who's deeply imaginative and poetic, I was in tears, heart pounding imagining death probably more intensely than I ever have. It was such a heartbreaking call to remember, think of, look out for, those people who have or might die alone. A depressing reality of humanity. There were so many feminist ideals in here as well, most deeply rooted in the trauma caused by men. Some of Valerie's ideals - according to this book - were just ahead of her time, too radical or inclusive for the 60s. I did love the look at feminism and inclusion this book portrayed. All around however, the book was depressing. I gave it three stars. 

    Book number two, Severance by Ling Ma was another one that got me with the cover. Make it pink and I'm in, this cover being very much like A Dream Life from March's books. Severance is an apocalyptic book and was my first ever of that genre and overall did not disappoint. I say overall only because I was not a fan of the ending. I wanted/needed more. I'm vacillating between three and four stars with this book simply because I wanted more, I want to know what happens to Chen, does she survive (I have many more questions but they would be spoilers if I asked, so I'll refrain)!? In general, this book was great. It's an immigrant story, a millennial story, an artist trapped in a 9-5 story, a mother/daughter story, a love story, so many things are woven into this. Chen is a Chinese-American, born in China, moved to Utah at age 6. It's got some poignant deep dives into capitalism that are laced with humor. How capitalism plays into how we work, how it shapes immigrants and their new lives in America, how we treat people especially in business with other countries, how we, in our personal lives, behave because of it. She published this book is 2018 and the apocalyptic ending is a fever that began in China. That alone was fascinating. People were wearing masks, or not wearing masks in her story, she literally depicts what life is like with masks right before we entered a life with masks. Some of it was a little surreal to read after the past few years. I'm sure Ma herself was a bit blow away by 2020 and how spot on her book was in forecasting, though thankfully civilization didn't end in real life. The interesting thing about the fever in her book is that people become brain dead essentially, but preform routine tasks over and over. There's a current in this book that made me really look into if routine is killing me or helping me. Like all things in life I think it's a balance.  When I'm most rigid, routine is life, but I also find myself yearning for adventure, travel, new air in my day, a break from routine. It's a fascinating dive into your habits, into routine, capitalism, the system, behaviors influenced by it all. In the end, I give it four stars. But I still want more Ma.

    The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh was probably the most beautiful book I read this month. I stumbled on it when I was entering Kaikeyi into Goodreads and was suggest a few more mythological retellings with a feminist bent. The cover. That's all I need to say. Winner of most beautiful cover. (Clearly I was going for fun, beautiful covers this month...) I wasn't sure if the story would live up to the cover, but it absolutely did. The way Oh writes is captivating and utterly captures big love. I cried, big crocodile tears in this book. Not because it was sad, but because of her big love, her big heart. This story takes place in China, by the sea. A hundred years of disastrous storms and thus, war over what's left, caused by an heartbroken Sea God causes the people to sacrifice a girl each year, throw her into the sea to become the Sea God's Bride in hopes he'll find true love and the storms will calm. Mina, bless her brave, big heart, jumps into the sea when the love of her brothers life is supposed to be the next Sea God's Bride. She tumbles into the Spirit Realm, still alive to learn about the spirit world, the broken Sea God, dragons, Imugi, mythical beasts and her ancestors. There's so much imagination, so well written. I want to stay in that world forever, honestly. It's a love story, it's a story of family, of passion and well, love that triumphs over all. Big, big love. Big enough to encompass humanity. I'm not typically one to read fantasy, especially books about dragon's and magic - that's my husbands beloved genre - but this one utterly captivated me. A few girls choosing their own future instead of being told what to do, bravery, love, wise old grandmas, all that things that make a great story. I give this one four and a half stars, although as I write this I'm debating five ha. I got lost in this book and it made me feel really good. That's a win, right? This book I had to take on a wine and dessert date, which was magical reading about love and the spirit realm under twinkle lights surrounded by all the bamboo and greenery that is Thai Fresh's outdoor patio. It was big vibes. Maybe also adding to the high rating, ha.

    Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole by Susan Cain has been slowly consumed over a few months. It's more of the slow burn kind of read for me. Back when I was reading some sort of nonfiction all the time, I'd be in a book off and on for months, sometimes things in the book directly relating to my life and the timing so perfect. I always want to absorb as much as nonfiction as I can, so at times it's a slower go. The prologue to this book blew my mind. Cain set it up in such a beautiful way, just the presentation had me in tears. She's telling a story, suggests a melancholy musical YouTube video to watch, finishes her story. I had to put the book down after the first few pages, cry and marvel and finally applaud Cain at her creative masterpiece. Then rush off to get the boys from school because I was seriously late, ha. After her book Quiet set me fully free to be as introverted as I want, when I saw this new title pop up on Book of the Month, I didn't even look at the other mostly options, just added to cart. Along with being of the quiet personality, I resonate with her bittersweet or melancholy personality. I love rainy days, sad music, beauty that breaks your heart. I connect much deeper over something heart breaking than joyful. Again, Susan made me feel not only normal, but celebrated. She says it took her years to write this book and I believe it because of the amount of research, the depth, the thought and insight put into it. There's philosophy, history, spirituality, death, trauma, all the things involved in this book, but mostly, the beautiful range of the human heart. Some of the history I adored learning was on how America culture has focused so much on the positive thinking, hiding the pain, the perfection and optimism. There's also a chapter on trauma held in DNA and her on personal story and struggle with what has happened to her ancestors. There's deep dives into death, can we overcome it with all our technology and discoveries? There are links to videos that move the heart with her explaining it or using it to prove a point. But her look at longing. How longing and melancholy is so often categorized as depression was very redemptive. How true longing and melancholy is often a motivator for action, for sparking change. We want better than this life, we want the beauty, the life without the death, the impermanence. How it motivates us to live better, to live in the moment, to live our lives in such a way that we won't regret how our time is spent. She asks pointed questions of the reader. Points out how older people or people who've had near life ending experiences live this way. How we can live this way without those things, how to cultivate the bittersweet. ***My own form of bittersweet tends to sound a bit like the lyrics of Florence + the Machine's lyrics in her new song Choreomania, "And I'm freaking out in the middle of the street. With the complete conviction of someone who's never had anything actually really bad happen to them. But I am committed now to the feeling." I've never had anything actually really bad happen to me, but tell me a story and I'm in it. A book I 100% recommend to the masses.

    Last up, The Sentence by Louise Erdrich. I didn't really know what to expect of this book, but when I read that Erdrich released a new booking 2021, I immediately put it on hold at the library. I've waited months for this book and was super excited to finally get my hands on the copy. I'd read her book, The Night Watchmen in 2020 and devoured it. It was incredible, so I had high expectations for this book. This book follows Tookie, an incarcerated Native American woman through the terms in which she became imprisoned and then out of confinement, back into life, into the arms of the man who, as a police man, sent her there to begin with. There's humor in this book along with poignant moments that made me tear up. There's Native American history and spirituals. There's books. A bookstore and endless mentioning of a readers dream of books, books and more books. I love how Erdrich writes herself into the book most of all. What I didn't realize was the timeline of the book. This has been the first book I've read that looks at how American's dealt with/survived the pandemic, with George Floyd's death, with the impact Covid-19 had on our lives, what essentials were during that time. Some of it hit maybe a little too hard. Or it just felt super recent and was still tender. I loved this book. I didn't fully understand the ghost situation happening but I understood Tookie was wrestling with her ghosts, with incarnation, being a person of color, police brutality, being disconnected from her past, her neglectful mom. With her own trauma from that as George Floyd was killed and the police protested and what it brought up in her. It felt like Louise Erdrich tackled so many issues here, but she did it well. And then I took pictures of Tookie's reading list at the end of the book and added many titles to my Goodreads account. Nothing like a well read author writing a book about books during a pivotal moment in time. I ate it up. Five stars for The Sentence.